Batman: Measuring Up (M, Cold, Robin (Tim Drake))

[Mercury]

A/N: This filled a request for a Robin sneezefic, however, there was no mention of which Robin. I've gone with Tim, because there will be a Nightwing fic somewhere in my future, just to spread the love.

Enjoy.

Measuring Up

Tim hadn’t been feeling well for several days. It had started, as was his norm, with a sore throat and ears, easily hidden with some tea in a thermos and lozenges. He spent most his day at school, so he was able to avoid Alfred with the claim of homework and then locked himself up in his room, where he could sound as croaky as possible.

He had formed a game plan regarding exactly how to hide the oncoming cold, nothing in writing of course, in case Bruce or Alfred found it. He knew how his normal colds progressed and could map when each symptom was going to come up. It was a method he had used many times before.

However, Tim didn’t factor in his nights as Robin.

Of course he had gone out. Staying home would have looked suspicious; Bruce would never have let him stay home without proper explanation.

He had gotten flattened very quickly that night. His stuffy head and impending fever had made his reflexes soft.

Tim already felt inadequate compared to the shoes of Dick and Jason. They were much more physical than he, and Tim had studied them when they had been Robins long enough to know that he didn’t quite measure up.

“Hit’Etchhhhoo!” Tim hissed and swore. He knew he had damaged his ribs, but they seemed just bruised and so there was no need to mention it to anyone. He could rub ointment into them and try not to sneeze too hard. Even that one, short wet one had felt as if someone was punching him in the chest.

He struggled to pull off the Robin outfit, trying to get out of it without having to stretch too much but his body was stiff. Even though he had his own area in the batcave he knew as long as he was in the sub levels of the mansion that Bruce would always be watching. If he winced or sneezed too much then it would undoubtedly be picked up on.

Tim felt his nose prickle again as he moved his top over his head, the material had brushed against the tip of the sensitive area.

“Hhhhh....” He quickly dropped his top to pinch his nose, holding himself still for a moment before the sensation tore through him.

He was proud that he only managed a bare squeak of a sound, but the expulsion threw him forward with a violence that sent sharp, slicing pain through his chest and head.

Gasping, Tim removed his hand and open and closed his jaw a few times as he tried to get his ears so calm down. The movement sent more pain through him and he stopped to grit his teeth.

He could handle it. He wouldn’t be Robin is he couldn’t.

The gasp of pain turned into something else, so he turned from where Bruce may be looking from and grabbed his nose again. He could feel the muscles straining under his fingers as his nostrils tried to flair.

“Gxggt!... Kngxtt! Kgnnk! Ngxtt! Hnxttt!”

“Tim?” Bruce’s voice rumbled across the Batcave, but his ward didn’t hear him.

Spots swum in Tim’s eyes and he stumbled backwards, his arms wrapping themselves around his chest. He tried to draw a proper breath, but was unable to do so without.

“Tim!”

Tipping backwards, Tim felt the world go black, and the muscles of his chest pull as someone grasped his arm a little too suddenly.

...

...

...

It was warm when he woke, and felt so different to the cave and the damp night of Gotham that it made Tim wondered for a moment where he was. His chest was sore, but not as much as he could remember it being, and his head was stuffier, but wasn’t throbbing.

He was in his bed, Tim realized, and after a little bit of subtle shifting he also noticed that he was no longer wearing the bottom half of his Robin uniform or his boots. Instead he was in loose pyjama bottoms and warm socks.

The teenager winced at the thought of someone changing him while he was unconscious. He didn’t even want to consider that it may have been Bruce that had done it, and he shifted slightly to bury himself further into the layers of pillows that flooded his bed.

However, Tim’s relaxation was cut short when his breath hitched, anticipating the sharp tickle that developed in his nose.

“Hep’Tchhhhhoo! Hihtitchhhh!”

“Hmm.”

Tim sat up, pain gripping his upper side at the sudden movement and he hissed between his teeth.

“Easy.” Bruce lent forward in his chair to place a hand on Tim’s shoulder and kept it there as the ward shifted into a sitting position. “If you’re lucky, you’ve pulled a rib muscle.” His voice dropped, “If you’re lucky.”

“Heshhhoo!” Tim swiped his wrist under his nose. “Feels like it’s od’ly pulled.”

“And how did it feel before?”

“... bruised?”

Bruce levelled him a look, which Tim couldn’t hold for very long before he had to glance away. As he did, his gaze fell on the bedside table, which had been fully stocked with cough medicine, tissues and something under a tea-cosy that Tim knew had been Alfred’s insistence.

He felt himself flush with embarrassment. “How long have you...” He trailed off and coughed slightly.

“How long have you been feeling ill?” The billionaire replied with a smirk.

Tim nodded and closed his eyes. He felt like a child and an idiot, but part of the reason why he always tried to hide that he was sick was partly because he could downplay it to himself. It was easiest to deny when he didn’t have someone hovering over him.

“I’b sorry,” he muttered, but when he didn’t get any sort of response he felt his heart clench a little. “I’b sorry for getti’g hurt,” his eyes stung a little, “I’b sorry for not getti’g sick... and not bei’g as good as the other Robids.”

He sniffed a little, turning away from Bruce and hoping that he could play the emotion off as part of his cold.

For the first time that week, said cold was on his side and Tim grasped for one of the tissue boxes. He fumbled with the opening and gave up as he let it drop in his lap, cupping his hands instead.

“Hihkishhh! Ehhh... Hetchhhoo!”

Tim paused, focusing on his nose behind his hands instead of the emotional knot in his throat. He didn’t want to lower his makeshift shield and leave himself vulnerable again.

He heard Bruce shift, and the protégé looked over the top of his fingertips as the older man successfully opened the tissue box and handed a couple over to him.

“You have a lot to learn,” He said uncomfortably, “and you shouldn’t compare yourself to them.”

Tim pressed the tissues to his nose as Bruce stood, looking as if he wanted to say something else. The Batman strolled to the door and kept his back to the boy in the bed, for some semblance of privacy while he blew his nose.

“I’ve already called the school. Take however long you need. You’ve done well; you deserve some rest.”

[Arty]

I...i...i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thats it! I need to write the requests people asked of me with this fandom... but right now..

:worshippy: :worshippy:

Edited March 5, 2014 by Artygirl22

[SterlingSilver]

Mercury~! This is precious~!

I love the sweet, but stern interactions between Bruce and Tim~

You play Tim very well! Just like how I would think a teenage boy like him would act with a cold

Well done, and I really enjoyed it >w<~

[LiveToBeMe]

Please continue <3

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

Yes continue <3 this is great.

[silversnake]

This is great! I hope there's more of it coming

[party_snake]

AMAZING! I love when Batman and Robin interact sorta like father and son! So cute! Please continue<3